


Five Theories The Avengers Had About Steve (And The One Time He Really Let Go)

by theladyingrey42



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: But Really Not As Much Rough Sex As There Should Have Been, Feels, Implications of Rough Sex, M/M, Stupid Cock-blocking Author Brain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 11:26:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyingrey42/pseuds/theladyingrey42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Christ, can you even imagine it? Spending your whole life like that and then suddenly being…that?"</p><p>What some of the other Avengers imagine Steve might have done the first time he put his new supersoldier body through its paces. Unsurprisingly, they haven't got a clue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Theories The Avengers Had About Steve (And The One Time He Really Let Go)

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for this prompt at the Avengers Kink Meme: http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/11065.html?thread=23486521#t23486521
> 
> Except minus most of the porn and plus an awful lot of Steve/Tony feels.

Steve unpacked the last of his things from his duffel and took a quick look around at his room. Everything was put away, everything exactly in its place. It didn't make him feel any more settled, though.

Used to be, back when he was living at SHIELD, the only thing he wanted after returning from a mission was some time alone, some peace and quiet and a chance to think. His hands were itching, though. What he really wanted…

He glanced at the door and flexed his hands into fists, then let them go. The rest of the Avengers were probably up in the living room, watching a movie or relaxing. He'd be able to slip right in, join the conversation or…not. They'd let him not, and they wouldn't ask too many questions. They were kind of perfect like that. He might be able to squeeze his way into a seat next to Tony, even. That sounded…nice. Really nice. Warmth and quiet companionship. Maybe an arm slung over the back of the couch and a furtive scratch of fingertips against the back of his neck.

Yeah.

He checked himself in the mirror, then headed off to the elevator. The doors slid open silently at the penthouse, and he stepped out. Immediately, he heard the muted voices of his teammates. The tension somewhere deep in his chest eased.

But then, a few steps outside the living room, he paused, really registering what they were saying.

"Christ, can you even imagine it? Spending your whole life like that and then suddenly being… _that_?"

Steve hesitated. There was something about Clint's phrasing…

Tony's voice rang out, his tone carrying just a touch of strain. It made Steve's pulse accelerate. "I do imagine it. Regularly."

"Stark," Coulson said.

"What? Is a man not allowed to picture a national icon defiling himself? Because that right there is the essence of freedom itself. It's what Cap's fighting for, really, when you think about it."

Oh. Oh, heck. They _were_ talking about Steve. He took one step back, his hand on the wall and his heart pounding. He should go in. Should at least let them know he was there and listening and…standing in the shadows like a creep. Jeez.

Only…

"I know what I'd do," Darcy said. "Hell, I know what I _did_ do. First day I woke up with _these_?"

Steve's face heated even further. Women weren't his first choice, but even he could appreciate the appeal of Darcy's…assets. He craned his neck to steal a glance into the room. The other Avengers (minus Bruce and Thor, plus Coulson and Darcy) were sprawled out on the couches, and there were an awful lot of empty bottles littered around them. 

Just the sheer comfort of the picture made the tired, frayed pieces inside of Steve knit together. He wanted to be there, to be part of it.

But he was so. Darn. Curious.

"What's that, Dar?" Clint asked.

"If I were Steve, and I woke up like that?" She gave a low moan. Sure enough, she was cupping her own chest. "I'd go out and I'd find the hottest, most stuck-up bitch—"

"Or asshole," Tony interjected.

Steve could actually hear Darcy's eyeroll. "Always so equal opportunity, aren't you?"

"When it comes to what Cap's willing to put his all-American dick in? Hell yes, I am."

Oh, God.

Steve backed away again and put his spine to the wall. Tony didn't even have to know he was there to make him crazy.

"Such a perv."

"Card-carrying."

" _Anyway_ ," Darcy said, "if I were Steve, and if I woke up like that, I would find the first mean person, regardless of gender, who had ever turned me down. And I would go up them and be all _unf_ at them."

"Unf?" Clint asked.

" _Unf_ ," Darcy repeated. "Unf all over them. I'd take them back to their place and shag them stupid. And then, when they were asleep after the amazing fuck, I would cut holes in all their underwear and steal their shampoo."

"Their shampoo?"

Steve's thoughts exactly.

Natasha interrupted, "Believe me, it's very annoying."

Okay. That was…weird. And not particularly accurate. Though Steve had to admit, the first time he'd run into one of his crushes from high school, post-serum, he'd been a little less polite than he would normally have been.

"Laaaaame," Clint said.

Darcy scoffed. "Oh yeah? And what would you do?"

Steve's attention turned away from the past and back to the conversation at hand.

"See, it's not about what I would do. Steve's just not the vengeful type, you know?" Well, he was right about that much at least. "He'd be more about paying it forward, I think."

"Oh?" Tony made a very interested noise.

"Yeah. I think he'd…I mean, he's all take-charge, do-this-do-that, right? And little scrawny Steve? He couldn't boss anyone around. When he could finally just pin someone down and make them _take it_?"

Oh, God.

"Jesus," Tony mumbled. "I think I need another drink. Is it hot in here? I think it's hot in here. JARVIS?"

"It is an extremely comfortable seventy-one degrees, sir."

"Turn it down to sixty-nine, would you?"

"Stark…" Coulson sounded even more annoyed now.

"Adjusting thermostat, sir."

"You were saying, Clint?"

"See…" And Clint's voice was raspy, too, now.

Steve swallowed hard. What had happened to his team while he'd been gone? He'd heard stories about alien sex pollen or other mood altering drugs. They all sounded so hot-under-the-collar. Of course, if they had been dosed with something, that did nothing to explain why Steve was sweating, too.

"See," Clint continued, voice dropping. "I think our fearless leader would learn a lot about himself. He'd take that body for a test drive with someone nice and easy. He'd find out what it was like to boss them around for real. Hold them down. Maybe tie 'em up a little. Fuck their mouths or…"

"I think we get the idea," Coulson said. He didn't sound annoyed anymore.

And _Steve_ was the one who should be annoyed. Sure, Steve liked to throw his weight around a little these days, and his penchant for giving orders wasn't limited to field work. But he'd never, not with a stranger. Definitely not.

He shook his head, refocusing. The inaccuracy of their stories wasn't the point here. His teammates were speculating about his sex life, and only one of them had any right to.

One of them…

And that was why he didn't move or reveal himself or ask them all to stop. If they were each going to offer theories about what Steve did with himself after the serum, well. There was one person's take he wouldn't miss for all the world.

He held his breath. For a minute everything was silence, like they were still turning over Clint's idea in their minds.

Finally, Natasha spoke up. "I think he'd just end up taking care of himself."

Steve's breath hitched.

Dreamlike, Natasha continued, "Because he's so careful, you know? And he's a strategist. He'd never go out there and test his strength on someone else. But he'd be all big and sexy in a way he's never been before, so he'd have to do something. So I think he'd find a mirror, get himself all nice and slick. Maybe picture his best gal or his best guy and just…"

She trailed off, and after a minute the whole room let out a collective exhale.

That was the closest story of them all, so far. No mirror, no, but…But she was right, in one respect at least. Steve could never have risked hurting anyone. Especially not the way the others were suggesting. The way the serum had made him sweat, though, the things it had done to his blood and his flesh. He'd needed relief, felt like he was going through puberty all over again. Had been needy. Starved for it.

And so used to never touching anyone that he hadn't even known how to begin. He still hadn't, not until…

Coulson cleared his throat. "I think you all have it wrong."

"Oh?" Tony asked. Gosh, he sounded wrecked.

"It's nice and well to think about him like…that, but there was a war going on. All he wanted was to be part of it."

"Are you…" Tony paused. "Are you trying to tell us that Steve had a hard-on for _America_?"

Coulson's voice rose, indignation piercing through. "I just don't think he would have been thinking about sex at a time like that."

"You're just saying that because he was your childhood crush."

"I'm saying it because I know the man. I mean…I've read everything. And we've talked. A couple times."

Steve smirked.

"I just think, if there was anything he did to test out his new abilities, it was running down a Nazi and kicking his ass. He'd want to prove he could do it. Prove, after all the times he hadn't been able to fight back before, now he could."

Steve had to hand it to Coulson. It was closer to the truth.

But there was still an aspect of it…

"I think…"

And that was Tony's voice. Oh, hell. This was it. Whatever Tony's fantasy or imagining or…whatever Tony thought…

But Tony surprised him.

Like he always did, Tony surprised them all.

"I think you've got it all wrong," he said, quiet and serious, that gravity of tone he only pulled out so rarely. Because Tony was always talking talking _talking_ , and you could tune it out, you really could, but when he meant it—when you really needed to listen…Tony said so little. Tony said only what mattered.

"Steve would never do any of that. Not for himself. He never does anything for himself. Maybe he'd fight or maybe he'd fuck, but he'd…he'd do it for someone else. Because someone else needed him to. I don't know _who_ but…"

It sounded like Tony _wanted_ to know who. Like it was killing him, thinking about it—about Steve giving in and giving someone _all_ of him. Bucky, he probably thought. Bucky or Peggy.

When really…

And Steve's heart ached. It was so full, so big and pressing so hard against his ribs.

"Actually…"

Steve heard the word before he'd even decided to say it. He realized what he'd done a second after he'd spoken, but then it was too late. His whole face ablaze, he stepped out of the shadows and into the doorway.

A bottle hit the ground, feet falling off cushions and there was more than one muttered curse. Five pairs of eyes rounded on Steve, but he only saw one. He stared into deep, brown eyes and felt so full of love he could barely contain it.

Tony acted so cool, acted like he didn't know or care what made Steve tick, like he couldn't even understand him half the time. But he knew. He _knew_.

And Steve wanted to give him so many things.

He started with this one, though.

Averting his gaze and reaching his palm up to rub the back of his neck, he forced the words out.

"Actually you've all got some good ideas and some…well, some crazy ones."

"Steve, we—"

"The first time I really let go, and I mean _really_ let go, er," he stammered, tripping over his own tongue, "sexually, I mean." He took a deep breath and remembered.

 _Up against the wall, legs tight around Steve's torso, head tipped back. Steve's breath against his ear, hands in his hair and on his thigh and all movement and push and heat and his strength…his strength…_ taking _._

_Giving._

"It was with a, um, a guy who'd been asking me to. For a while. Someone who trusted me more than I trusted myself. Because I'd wanted to, you know. Wanted to let go and just use it all." Steve flexed his arms and felt the strength in muscles that had never really felt like his own before uncoil. "But it _terrified_ me. But he…he set me at ease. Just by being himself."

Steve could barely breathe, both for the images scrolling through his mind and the pressure of all those stares.

"He was working, and I came to see him. He always, always made time for me. When I just needed someone to talk to or needed someone to touch me and remind me everything was real, even though it was all so new. Or I just needed to touch someone. And he…he told me all these things he'd been thinking about. Things he wanted me to do to him."

 _Want you to fuck me, Steve, God, want you so deep inside me, no, don't, don't turn away. Want you to just throw me against something and bite me and spread me, split me open so I feel you for_ days _, Steve, doesn't that sound good? Doesn't it?_

"And I was still scared, but he goaded me on, and it felt so good. We pushed everything off his worktable, but it still wasn't enough. So I threw him up against a wall, and he didn't break."

_Yeah, Steve, baby, that's it. You like that, don't you? Like being on top, like making me do what you want. You wanna use me?_

"He asked for more. So I gave it to him."

_Strength in his legs and strength in his arms and the hot slick glide, the push inside and Steve holding him up with just his hips. Inside._

_So good, Steve, so fucking deep, keep—_

Steve finally dared to look up again, and Tony looked destroyed.

A ball of ice formed in the pit of Steve's stomach.

But he couldn't stop now.

"And it changed everything."

Because up until then, Steve hadn't been sure. He hadn't. But he'd looked into deep, brown eyes, and he'd known it was safe.

He could have this.

Steve averted his eyes to the side, focusing on nothing. "So, um, yeah. That's how it was. The first time I let go."

Stunned silence fell over the room, and suddenly Steve felt precisely as big as he was, as oversized and ridiculous—like he didn't quite fit in his own skin. He coughed and fidgeted. The longer the silence rolled on, the more out of place he felt.

What was he doing here?

His breath was coming fast, just this side of the same old panic he remembered from an attack. He shouldn't have said anything. That was always the problem, wasn't it? People expected him to be one thing and the reality was never quite in line with the fantasy. _He_ was never quite in line.

He wasn't supposed to be here, screwing up their whole conversation.

"Sorry to interrupt," he choked.

He turned on his heels, and before anyone could say or do anything, he was back at the elevator bank, pressing the button compulsively. "JARVIS? Help a guy out here, please?"

"Certainly, Captain Rogers."

Half a second later, the elevator doors slid open, and Steve stepped in. The doors closed behind him, and he sailed down the few floors, the whole time swinging between icy and hot. Mortified and turned on. He'd said all that. In front of…

Tony was going to be so mad. Even if he hadn't overshared—like Tony even had any shame at this point—he'd given away entirely too much. What he and Tony had, this thing between them…it wasn't…

Damn.

Safe on his own floor of the tower again, Steve locked himself into his room. He stripped off his shirt and considered a shower just to sluice away the dirty-nervous-sweaty feeling but just ended up pacing instead.

On his third turn around the room, a quick series of knocks sounded out against the door. Steve's heart felt like it leapt into his throat, and for a second, he couldn't speak. His jaw worked, mouth opening and closing.

"Steve? I know you're in there."

Right. Steve had known it would be Tony, but still, to hear his voice…

If Tony broke this thing off between them, Steve didn't know what he was going to do.

Steve took a couple deep breaths, then another couple. When Tony knocked again, Steve bit back his nerves and put his game-face on as he strode toward the door. He yanked it open, only to be confronted with the sight of a still wrecked-looking Tony standing there, elbow braced against the door-jamb and forehead braced against his arm. His other hand was in the air, poised to knock again.

As if surprised to be answered, Tony jerked his head up. "Steve."

"Tony." And Steve's heart was racing, his palms tingly and his breath short. "I'm so—"

But then Tony was pushing past the door and into Steve's space, his hands on Steve's shoulders and his lips on Steve's, and oh God. The door slammed shut as Tony pressed Steve backwards, their bodies flushed, and he tasted like scotch and sex and everything Steve ever wanted from a partner and from himself, and he was _kissing Steve._

"Tony—"

"Shit, Steve, you have no idea, do you? No idea."

"Um, no?"

Tony chuckled and finally tore his mouth from Steve's, ducking to press his face against Steve's chest. His hands were fisted hard at Steve's hips. "How long were you standing there?"

Steve's mouth went dry. "Long enough."

"JARVIS the rat bastard. Didn't tell me you got back."

"I may have asked him not to."

Did Tony stiffen? "No?"

"I thought I might want some time alone." Steve rubbed his hands up and down Tony's back. "I was wrong. I missed…" _you_ "…you guys."

"Well, you sure did manage to make an entrance."

"I didn't plan—"

"I mean, bravo, you know. And when you started adding your own story. Arc reactor just about overloaded. But I didn't expect…"

"Tony, I'm sorry."

Tony lifted his head, and there were those eyes. Dark and serious and so everything to Steve.

"That time with me? Down in the workshop? That was the first time you let go?"

And what could Steve say? He brought a hand around to cup Tony's jaw, stroking his thumb over his cheek. "First time I trusted someone enough to."

For what felt like centuries, Tony stared at Steve. Like he was trying to figure something out.

And he'd come here. He'd come to Steve's room and kissed him within an inch of his life. This had to be okay, right? Things between them had to be okay.

All at once, Tony's mouth cracked into a sly, shy smile that looked almost foreign in his face. Steve loved that smile.

"Care to let go again?"

Steve loved that smile so much he had to kiss it.

When they were both gasping for breath, Steve pulled back, licking his lips and cradling Tony's head in his big, strong hands like he was exactly as precious as he was.

Grinning, Steve nodded. "Anytime."

As he pushed Tony down onto his bed and fumbled with his fly, it wasn't the first time Steve let go.

But if Tony's response was anything to go on, it definitely, definitely wouldn't be the last.


End file.
